The Wheel Turns Full Circle
by slowfox
Summary: Firenze presents a different take to Divination Studies in Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts


**Summary:** A different take on presentation is presented to our Hero as he starts his sixth year at Hogwarts. Written post-OotP.

**Disclaimer:** None of this belongs to me - it's all JKR's (although she's probably not overly thrilled by my twisted takes on the whole thing)

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****The Wheel Turns Full Circle**

Despite the greater part of his mind insisting that it was a waste of time, Harry had stuck with Divination Studies at N.E.W.T. level. It wasn't that he believed in the stuff at all, but since everyone else did, and since it seemed that a large part (but hopefully not the sum total) of his immediate future was to be influenced by a prophecy made by, of all people, Professor Trelawney, Harry had drawn a resigned breath and ticked the 'Divination Studies' box on his Hogwarts Letter and sent Hedwig off with his options before common sense could get the better of him.

Harry had had ample time to regret the decision in the term's first lesson, which had once again been conducted in the soporific warmth of Trelawney's over-heated lair. Of his fellow Gryffindors, only Parvati and Lavender had signed up with him - the rest of the class comprised one Ravenclaw (Mandy), one Slytherin (Millicent) and a clutch of Hufflepuffs. Impossible though the thought had seemed, Divination Studies was indeed even duller without Ron to exchange banter with.

Understandably, then, it was with something of a heavy heart that Harry pushed open the door to Firenze's classroom for the second, alternate viewpoint of the discipline. Running slightly late on account of Ron (fresh captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team) reminding him _yet again_ that they needed to hold try-outs for the team later in the month, Harry entered the room to find Firenze's eyes fixed upon him: "Good afternoon, Harry Potter."

Harry winced inwardly, as the rest of the class' eyes swivelled to consider his late (but not stylishly so) entrance. "Uh, hi, Firenze," returned Harry, hesitantly, attempting to slide into the nearest empty seat, thereby causing the least disturbance possible.

As it turned out, this proved to be next to Millicent, who returned his impartial nod ("It's very important that we work on building inter-house relationships, Harry," said an earnest voice in his head) with a blank stare. Waiting a fraction longer for a response that was clearly not going to be forthcoming, Harry sighed inwardly and turned his eyes to the front.

Parvati was sitting in the first row of desks, her attention fixed upon Firenze with almost as much dedication as she directed towards Trelawney, although it seemed to be of a slightly different flavour. This irritated Harry, although he couldn't quite put his finger on why, exactly.

Firenze had finished his general preamble to the course, and seemed to be waiting for something. "So you are here to pursue Divination Studies," the centaur announced. "The Centaurs have long studied portents and markers, the transit of celestial bodies, the testament of prophecies of many tongues. There is interconnection in all things as the wheel turns full circle..."

Harry's shoulders started to slump as he dutifully made notes on his parchment. He glanced at the new watch Hermione and Ron had given him for his birthday: one hour and twenty-five minutes more to go. He could make it.

"The human focus of Divination Studies has been obsessed with looking to the future..."

Harry blinked and looked up at Firenze. Wasn't the whole point of Divination Studies supposed to be that it foretold the future? What other kind of Divination could there be?

Parvati had clearly been thinking along the same lines: "But," she interrupted, "but Professor Trelawney sa..."

Harry rolled his eyes, sighing, wishing that Parvati would see the mad Divination Studies teacher for the fraud she really was.

Firenze, meanwhile, seemed to be tolerating Parvati's objection with good humour: "It is a human conceit to limit study in one direction..." The centaur held an apple in his hand, passing it from left to right as he said this, eyes scanning the room to ensure he had everyone's attention.

"Harry Potter," he said, and Harry groaned an inward 'why me?'. "What would happen," continued Firenze, "if I were to let go of this apple?"

Harry had long since learnt to be wary of seemingly simple questions, especially where magic was involved. And this was Hogwarts: magic was always involved. "Er, it'll fall?"

"You can see the future, then, Harry Potter?"

Harry could feel his face redenning. "Um, no. It's... obvious. It's gravity."

'Nah mate,' whispered Ron's voice, conspiratorially in his head, 'gravity's a myth: the Earth sucks.'

"So you believe in gravity, Harry Potter?" queried Firenze in what was becoming quite an embarrassing interview. Why couldn't the centaur pick on someone else?

"Well, yeah. Of course," although Firenze's disconcerting questioning style had Harry feeling distinctly uncomfortable.

Firenze nodded slowly. "You believe in gravity because your years of living have reinforced the observation that when unsupported, objects fall to the Earth."

"Uh, yeah," nodded Harry, not quite sure where Firenze was headed. By the blank looks of the rest of the class, neither were they.

"And yet, Harry Potter, you don't believe in Divination Studies." It wasn't presented as a question.

Harry flinched, and could almost feel the glare of affront Parvati was directing at him: "Uh, well. I mean..."

Firenze spared him the discomfort: "You doubt the discipline of Divination because, Harry Potter, you have not experienced first hand the empirical evidence to support the theory."

The class looked, as one, blankly at their teacher.

"The centaurs have, for millennia, studied the patterns of the world, and noted the correlations of events and objects, documented the ages of transition, and refined ancient understanding of the cycle of things."

"In short, Harry Potter, you tell me that if I let go of his apple from my hand, it will fall to the floor. And in return, I tell you, all of you, that as a Dark Lord rises, so his challenger is appointed."

The vague silence of boredom and dubious comprehension gave way to the sharp silence of shock.

"I say this, Harry Potter, not because I have the gift of foresight, but because I have the knowledge of hindsight. A challenger rises because this is the pattern of things. A great battle will be fought, because this is how events conclude..."

"You mean," queried Harry, his throat suddenly dry, "that this..." he waved his hand vaguely at his forehead, to indicate the lightning-shaped scar, "that this has happened before?"

"Exactly, Harry Potter. This has _all_ happened before," confirmed Firenze, with absolute conviction.

And the hairs stood up on the back of Harry's neck.


End file.
